


What Are We Going to Do?

by Close_enough_to_lose



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: (russ and 2d are only mentioned), Child Abuse, Consent, Fluff, Gen, HIV/AIDS, STIs, Sex Talk, Sexual Assault, Sexual Orientation, condom use, mentions of:, mentions only, murdoc is a disaster bi dad but he means well, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 14:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16934841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Close_enough_to_lose/pseuds/Close_enough_to_lose
Summary: Murdoc notices that Noodle looks embarrassed while handing 2D the lyric sheet for Every Planet We Reach Is Dead. He quickly figures out why. Luckily, it’s one thing he’s equipped to deal with.Or,Murdoc finds out Noodle is bi and gives her his advice.





	What Are We Going to Do?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is rated T, but it will mention serious subjects like STIs and sexual assault. You know, things a comprehensive sex talk _should_ mention. Also some mentions of physical abuse, but no descriptions.

It was a regular recording day at Kong Studios. Or at least Murdoc thought it would be. A few weeks ago, Noodle had shown the band an instrumental demo for Every Planet We Reach Is Dead, and they were finally ready to work on it. She had planned an ambitious piece, with a bass line he was eager to play, and a piano solo fit for a virtuoso. Clearly, she has inherited her bombastic taste from Murdoc (or so he liked to think). She had also been quite possessive of the entire Demon Days project: she accepted contributions, but she made sure to push her vision to the forefront (pride, Murdoc told himself, she totally did not inherit from him).

However, contrary to his expectations, Noodle was not her confident self that day, at least not entirely. She was as cheerful as ever, but she was a lot more careful in her approach, punctuating every single one of her suggestions with “is that okay with you?”, when usually she would be more assertive.

Murdoc also noticed Noodle's embarrassed shuffling as she handed 2D the lyric sheet. That was unusual too, since Noodle was very proud of her work and excited for her album. As much as Murdoc liked to pretend he needed no one and cared about no one, he had become attuned to his bandmates who were  —  though he would never admit it to himself  —  family.

All the band jammed together before they went on to separately record their parts in the booth. During their playthroughs, Murdoc tried to listen to the lyrics carefully. He didn't catch anything unusual, and, from what he managed to piece together, though he focused on his own instrument more than the meaning of the words, he found the concept interesting. He did not understand the source of embarrassment until 2D was alone in the recording booth, and Murdoc could truly focus on the lyrics. 

_ Dreams aren't bad, I had turned back/ _ _ I love the girl/ _ _ But God only knows it's/ _ _ Getting hard to see the sun coming through/ _ _ I love you/ _ _ But what are we going to do? _

2D added a playful smirk as he sang the last part. And then it hit Murdoc.

_ I love the girl _

_ The  _ _ girl _

Oh.

If that was Noodle’s issue, then, he knew how to deal with it. It was one thing he thought he knew how to deal with. He looked at Russel, who was listening intently, but he did not have any unusual reactions to the lyrics. Murdoc simply assumed that, if he wasn’t the only one who noticed Noodle’s embarrassment, then he was definitely the only one who figured out its source.

Not wanting to embarrass Noodle in front of everyone, he decided to wait until later that day to approach her. Meanwhile, he waited for his turn in the recording booth. He feigned disinterest, but was truly impressed with how the track was coming along. Noodle seemed to have regained her usual attitude once she was recording too, losing herself to the melodies she played on her guitar. 

Once they were done recording for the day, Murdoc, instead of retreating to his Winnebago as usual, went for a stroll outside to think about the best way to approach the subject. He did not want to make Noodle feel uncomfortable, but he did not usually share his feelings with her, nor any of his bandmates really, so he decided that the best option was simply to be direct. He did not even drink that evening, to show Noodle his seriousness. His own childhood hadn't been the best, and if there was something he could do for Noodle to have a semblance of normalcy, he would do it, no questions asked. Murdoc may be a dysfunctional angry mess, but he wasn't a monster, or so he convinced himself. So, without further delay, he went to Noodle's room and knocked on her door.

He heard a faint “Coming!” and sure enough, a few seconds later the door opened. Noodle greeted him with a silent nod.

“Hey there love.”

She was surprised to see Murdoc at her door. He was usually drinking himself to oblivion and getting up to God knows else during that time of the day. Even when he wasn't drinking, he did not usually visit her room.

“Hey,” she simply replied.

“How are you?”

“Fine, you?”

“Fine.”

Clearly, the conversation was not going anywhere. He did not expect it to be so awkward. He was starting to realize, that as much as he cared for Noodle, they had little in common except music. There was an emotional distance between them due to his reluctance to be vulnerable. The distance was exacerbated by Noodle’s own reclusiveness, which she had developed after retrieving her memories of the failed supersoldier program. The whole situation was made all the more difficult by the fact that he did not know how parents usually approached their kids about important subjects. It’s not like his father ever cared about him, and when he grew up, other adults would be giving him sermons on how people like Murdoc were destined to go to hell (which is partly why he decided to become a satanist  —   finally an entity that wanted him for who he was!). Unable to bear the awkwardness of the situation any longer, he decided to cut to the chase.

“You were uncomfortable while handing 2D the lyric sheet today,” he stated.

Noodle tensed, thinking she had been more subtle. She took in the situation. Murdoc was dressed in more than his underwear, and his balance was okay. She concluded that he was sober, which meant serious business. She hesitated for a moment, then decided:

“I don't wanna talk about it.”

Murdoc did not expect to be rejected right away, but he did not push it. While he was visibly dejected at her reaction  —   he made an effort, damn it!  —   he tried to keep his cool. He had witnessed her terrifying martial arts skills when she was a child, and since Noodle had discovered that she was the product of a failed supersoldier program, the band, Murdoc included, feared upsetting her even more than before.

“Right. I'll get going then”

He hesitated for a moment, then turned and started making his way to his Winnebago. As he was walking away, Noodle considered the situation once more. Murdoc never reached out. He always drowned himself in alcohol, and when he was anything resembling sober, he made everything about himself. The situation was highly unusual. And in fact, Noodle thought, she was closing herself to the others as well. She only told them about the small things, but not about the nightmares or trauma that came from her retrieved memories. If there was one relatively normal thing, one thing she could talk about, maybe it was worth it. Now that she thought about it, she did not know if Murdoc actually noticed the reason her own lyrics made her feel embarrassed. Murdoc did not strike her as the most open-minded of her bandmates (in fact, she would argue he was the least sensible one), but at the same time, there was no derision in his voice when he spoke to her. In fact, he seemed much more quiet and restrained than usual. If Murdoc, out of all people, was reaching out to her, then maybe she should accept his help.

“Murdoc, wait!”

His head snapped back.

“If it's for a tea, go make it yourself,” he grumbled in response.

Noodle rolled her eyes, and though she was too far and her bangs covered her eyes, Murdoc could feel her annoyance. She added a sigh, however, just to make sure he got her reaction.

“No. I changed my mind,” she admitted.

“That was quick”

“What can I say, supersoldier quick thinking.”

Murdoc grunted in response, but made his way back to her room. At the door frame, he waited for her permission to enter. “Come in,” she beckoned.

Her room was the cleanest one of the building.  All was neatly arranged, so Murdoc decided to change that by flopping into her bed unceremoniously (without taking off his shoes) and messing up the sheets. 

“That's my bed you're messing up,” Noodle pointed out.

“And it's my advice that you need” he retorted with a smirk.

“Whatever.”

She responded to Murdoc's cockiness with her own attitude, but as she sat on her bed, her earlier embarrassment returned. She did not know what she wanted to say. She had written a song, and decided to add what she thought was an innocuous detail, but her own reaction betrayed that it was much more than an issue of word choice. She still decided to play things safely, and would let Murdoc lead the conversation. He sensed her discomfort, and did just that.

“So, I didn't imagine it. You were uncomfortable today, right?”

“Not exactly uncomfortable. Maybe vulnerable?”

“Are you going to tell me why?”

“It depends,” she offered, “on what you tell me  _ you _ think is the issue.”

“Avoiding your feelings, Noodle? That's  _ my _ signature move. You should know plagiarism is frowned upon.”

When Noodle shot him an unimpressed look, he understood that her proposition was serious.

“Fine,” he said. “Now, forgive me if I assumed something completely wrong, but the lyrics of Every Planet We Reach Is Dead are addressed to a woman.”

“That's not an assumption, they  _ are  _ about a woman,” Noodle said feigning innocence, even though she was surprised, and slightly scared, that Murdoc figured it out so easily.

“You know what I mean. You wrote the lyrics. You. A girl. You wrote ‘I love the girl.’”

“I did write them,” Noodle replied.

“So? Am I supposed to ask you if you like girls now? Most people consider it rude. Not me of course. Etiquette is for boring people.”

So he did figure it out, Noodle thought. No point denying it any longer.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do like girls.”

“Good, I have not yet reached the point where I project my own issues on my child then,” Murdoc proclaimed, clearly proud of his intuition. Noodle, on the other hand, was confused. He did not seem to have much of a reaction, other than making things about himself. That is to say, his behaviour was completely normal.

“You projected… liking girls… on me?” Noodle asked, dumbfounded, not catching Murdoc's implication.

“Oh Noodle,” Murdoc chuckled.

She took a moment and realized her misunderstanding.

“Oh. You projected liking  _ people of the same gender _ on me.”

“I just told you I  _ didn't  _ but… Welcome to the club, Noodle.”

He smiled at her, but she was still a bit anxious. She had expected her sexual orientation to be something more surprising, something that would get a strong reaction from her bandmates, especially from someone as emotive and unpredictable as Murdoc. She also did not expect Murdoc's confession at all, given his tendency to emasculate 2D and to use degrading language towards him. At that moment, however, she felt like it was all too much to grapple with, so instead she asked:

“You won't tell the others right?”

“What will I say? 'Esteemed gentlemen, I gathered you today to inform you that our daughter is gay’?”

“Bi,” she clarified.

“Just like uncle Murdoc then.” He grinned.

She smiled in response  — Murdoc's genuine emotion was contagious  —  but then looked up expectantly, waiting for a straightforward response.

“Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “No. I won't tell them, it's none of their business. I simply know because I'm just that observant.”

“You're barely ever there mentally,” she countered.

“And I can still see shit they don't! See? Observant. Brilliant.”

Noodle sighed.

“Fine, I'll stop. You planning to tell them eventually?”

“I was gonna ask ... are they okay with you? It's just that I've never seen you with guys … I was a bit surprised.”  _ I'm surprised because your actions and your words are a contradiction, _ Noodle wanted to add, but did not.

“You act like I care about what those two think of me.” He did care, even though he didn't admit it.

At his boast, Noodle's expression went dark. As she grew up, there were aspects of Murdoc she became disillusioned with.

“I suppose that’s not the worst thing about you, yeah.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure.” Murdoc wasn't entirely reassured, but he was not looking to argue at the moment, so he kept to the subject of the conversation. “I'm more careful with blokes. It's showbiz. They catch you with a guy and then that's the only thing the press ever talks about. Rob Halford came out, but that’s because he’s Rob fucking Halford. I'm not at his level. Yet,” he emphasized. “We’re musicians, I want them to talk about my genius, not about who I shag - ah, sorry,  _ like _ ,” he corrected, having forgotten in his fervour that he was talking to Noodle.

“I'm not a kid anymore, Murdoc, you don’t have to censor yourself,” Noodle remarked indignantly.

“Didn't think you'd be so interested in the technicalities.”

This remark threatened to give Noodle mental images she'd rather not have.

“You know what, you're right.”

“Of course I'm right. Now, what were we talking about? Ah yes. Russ and 2D. Don't worry about them. They'll be fine with you. You're our Noodle, and nothing will change that.”

She was struck by Murdoc's sincerity. He did not even take the opportunity to insult either Russel or 2D. She understood that she caught Murdoc in a rare moment of vulnerability, and she was not sure if she should ask things she wouldn't otherwise. Would he be open to it, or would he take it as a slight? She decided to take a risk:

“Can I ask you … how did you know?”

“I just did.” Murdoc shrugged, and his earlier smile was replaced by an unreadable expression. “You know, the Niccals household wasn't the most accepting. So when I felt like I wanted to sha- date, I mean date blokes, I told myself it must be real. Only an idiot would willingly attract even more violence in a home like that. And I'm definitely not an idiot.” He paused. “But it's not like you have to worry about that. There's no Sebastian Niccals here. I believe you.”

Noodle stayed silent. She did not know how to respond. Murdoc only ever alluded to his childhood in broad terms, never going into the specifics. She could only imagine the extent of the violence he experienced. She wondered if it was worse than anything Murdoc ever did to 2D. She wondered how come Murdoc treated her so differently from 2D. Before she had retrieved her memories, she hadn't noticed the extent to which Murdoc was dysfunctional. Now, being fluent in English, more mature and generally having more knowledge of the world, she noticed the venom in his language, the destructiveness of his habits, and his tendency to take out his anger on others, or more specifically, 2D. If Murdoc was like his own father, then why wasn't she subject to the same treatment? And if he was not like his father, then why would he abuse 2D in the same way? She shook her head. Some there were some things even supersoldier training did not explain.

“What's that you thinking there?” Murdoc asked, poking the side of her head with one finger.

“Nothing. It's really strange, that's the kind of conversation I would normally have with 2D.”

“What, that dolt? What can he teach you? The idiot wound up with Satan knows how many bastards cause he doesn't know how to use a bloody condom!”

Noodle blushed.

“Maybe he didn't think about it because he can't get pregnant. I know it's selfish but…” she trailed off, not really knowing how to defend him, because she was also disappointed with him for that.

“It's not only about pregnancy!” Murdoc's raised voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “It's about shit you can catch too! You know a bacterial infection is fine, you pop some pills and it's over, but there's shit out there that's not like that. Shit like AIDS used to kill people. They only recently made pills that can actually control it. People still die of that crap ‘cause they're too piss poor to afford the meds.”

Murdoc did not expect his own outburst. He did not like getting angry with Noodle. But he also did not like dwelling about his memories of old bandmates whose bodies one day started deteriorating until there was nothing left to sustain their young souls, which were still full of life. He did not like dwelling on the times where he was drifting, trying to get away from home, but encountering no stability, and where friends  —   no, acquaintances, Murdoc never got emotional did he  —   dropped dead left and right. He did not like dwelling upon it because it gave him survivor's guilt, and he would have to spend all of his energy trying to convince himself that he deserved to be alive, that all of those he lost deserved better, when society hadn't granted them a shred of dignity even in death. So he got angry instead. Noodle cast her eyes down.

“It's scary, all this sexuality stuff,” she said.

“I know,” he simply replied. “I, um, I wouldn't judge you if ever you, you know, catch something like HIV. I just … I just want you to be safe because your life doesn't need to be harder than it already is.”

Once again, Noodle was surprised. Murdoc admitting to feel fear was not something she ever thought she would witness in her lifetime. Murdoc, who made sure to boast about all his conquests, was the last person she expected to express any sort of difficult feelings toward sex, or any worry in general. She stayed silent.

“Noodle.”

“Yes?”

“There's one last thing I wanted to make sure of.”

Noodle nodded, signaling him to continue. Murdoc placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her directly in the eye.

“Don't ever feel forced to agree to doing something that makes you uncomfortable, alright? You have the right to tell someone to sod off. Even when it’s a lover.”

“Okay.” She searched his eyes for any clue of what he was feeling, but she did not find an answer.

“I want to make sure, because when you're caught in the moment, there's people who will, how to say… try to take advantage of you, and you feel trapped, and if that ever happens to you, Satan forbid, I want you to know ... it's not your fault.”

“Don't worry about me, I won't let anyone hurt me. I'm a supersoldier. remember?” She tried to reassure him through boasting, in the same way he usually did, but it was not working. He only gave her a sad smile.

“It's not just about physical power, love. It's about someone taking advantage of you when you're at your most vulnerable, a violation of trust. It's about people abusing their authority. It's about people who corner you into a situation where you can't say no.”

Murdoc's voice contained none of his usual sarcastic sneer. He did not sound angry, at least not in his usual, loud way. No, from the way his hands clenched the fabric of his pants and from his distant gaze, she saw that this time, he turned his anger inwardly. That's how she understood that he spoke from experience. She suddenly remembered some of his old interview answers and realized with horror that they were all true. She did not dare ask more.

“I, um … I appreciate your concern. Thank you. Really,” was what she managed to get out. That seemed to bring Murdoc's attention back to the present moment.

“If anything happens to you, you come talk to me, okay? Whatever it is.”

She hesitated for a moment. She was at that age where overbearing parenting was becoming annoying. But Murdoc was different. If he was concerned  —   no, afraid  —   and showed it, then it was serious. And after all he revealed to her, and all the things he didn't reveal but she understood from his silences, it would be cruel to dismiss his advice and help.

“Yeah. I will.”

“That's my girl!”

He chuckled gently and ruffled her hair. His fingernails scraped at her head lightly, but she did not mind. His touch may be rough, but it was caring, just like he was with her. She hugged him. He smelled of stale cigarettes and alcohol (though slightly less than usual), but it gave her a sense of home. Murdoc was warm, unlike the laboratory where she was raised. Murdoc was alive, unlike the other children in the laboratory who kept reappearing in her dreams. Murdoc, she understood, also had a fair share of trauma, though of a different nature from hers. She took comfort in the fact that, though they did not talk about their fears in detail, they could still trust the other to be understanding.

“Oi,” Murdoc said.

Noodle snapped out of her reverie and turned her head up to look at him 

“Yeah?”

Murdoc thought for a second about what he wanted to express. Was it a situation where normal parents would tell their child that they love them? He couldn't know. He was not even sure if he had ever felt love in his life.

“I'm proud of you,” he decided to say instead. Pride was something he understood.

“Thank you.”

Noodle understood what was unsaid. They silently shared their hug, until an idea came to Noodle's mind.

“Hey Murdoc?” 

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to thank you for coming to talk to me, and I thought ... Maybe there's a way you could be with a guy in public view without any risks for your career” 

Noodle’s expression turned mischievous. Murdoc raised an eyebrow.

“...What is it,” he asked flatly, unsure of her intention.

“You know how we’re filming DARE soon?”

Murdoc wondered what was so special about DARE. Their tracks were all different, most of them with various collaborators — 

Then it dawned on him. He broke the hug to yell in horror:

“I'm not sleeping with Shaun fucking Ryder!!!”

**Author's Note:**

> Murdoc did end up sleeping with Shaun Ryder  
> Press F to pay respects
> 
> ***
> 
> Just a small note about language: Murdoc initially uses AIDS to refer to HIV, because given his age, he would have known the infection as AIDS during the first years of the epidemic. The first known reported case in the U.K. dates to the end of 1981: Murdoc is about 15 by then. The correct term to talk about the virus is HIV; AIDS usually refers to a stage where an HIV+ person has immune deficiency. Murdoc also doesn’t really care about sensible use of language, especially not in early phases.
> 
> As for his comment about HIV treatment, here’s a short explanation: in the late 80s- early 90s, AZT was used to manage HIV, but it was not effective on its own. The treatment we know today was first developed in 1996, and consists of a combination of antiretroviral drugs (there are various possible regimens, which i’m not all familiar with because i’m not a doctor, just a history student). When treatment is successful, HIV is considered a chronic condition, and HIV+ people can lead long, fulfilling lives.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fic! Please don’t forget to leave kudos if you liked it :)


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